


i'd love to have new years

by howfrightening



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, Gen, It's sad guys, Short, all of the characters but ambrose are mentioned, the major character death is for the ones that took place obvs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 10:15:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22968340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howfrightening/pseuds/howfrightening
Summary: Ambrose wills for the words to come back, for them to come back. He clutches the journals sometimes and hopes its contents will fill his arms again.-just a drabble about ambrose during the apocalypse. i thought about how lonely he must have been and noticed how many books he had. i might add to it later, but for now please enjoy this little something.
Relationships: Ambrose Spellman & Hilda Spellman & Sabrina Spellman & Zelda Spellman, Prudence Night/Ambrose Spellman
Comments: 4
Kudos: 39





	i'd love to have new years

**Author's Note:**

> it is short my friends, but it's still good :)
> 
> please tell me your thoughts about it! i think im gonna get back writing again

His blood is pumping and his mind is screaming. 

Ambrose flees.

He does exactly as Prudence instructs him to do. He grabs the egg and leaves. It isn’t until he’s set up the ward that he falls. 

He wails and claws at the dirt because he can and no one will hear him. 

On the 89th day Ambrose noticed the world had been silenced. 

On the 251st day Ambrose feared insanity. 

On the 500th day Ambrose sings. 

It was the 754th day that Ambrose began to write. 

He had read all of the occult books he managed to salvage, read and reread the arcane knowledge that didn’t help him that he could recite it. He tok the empty books and began to write. Perhaps in a time before he would write poetry, stories, he had a knack for it. Instead, he started writing memories- about  _ them _ . His memories of them.

And once he started writing he couldn’t stop. It poured out of him as memory after memory came to the surface. Ambrose didn’t know if it hurt or helped and he always found more to write. At times he’d get frustrated at not writing fast enough to keep up with the details in his mind’s eye. He wondered if he was insulting them in the way his words failed. One time he nearly breaks his pen when he cannot accurately describe his aunt’s voice. Hours turn into days and sometimes he cries, but he writes and he writes and he writes. 

He writes.  _ Sabrina’s striped sweater had a pattern of green-red-white-pink-red-gold- _

He writes.  _ Aunt Hilda would hum a lullaby while she stirred her tea; clockwise then counter-clockwise, then twice clockwise then-  _

He writes.  _ Aunt Zelda loved mornings after a storm, had her coffee on the porch, with her feet up, sometimes brought a blanket-  _

He writes.  _ Prudence was the best at finding four-leaf clovers, she had a bright smile- _

Ambrose wills for the words to come back, for them to come back. He clutches the journals sometimes and hopes its contents will fill his arms again. 

“What good does it do?” He cries and throws his broken pencil at the tank. “ _ Bring them back!”  _

What does it bring him? Ambrose wonders if it’s enough.

He has written novels about them. Each of them with the name of their subject printed on the cover. Some containing more than one of them. He has written a chapter about how his Aunt Zelda would teach him almost anything if he asked-  _ She taught me how to read music, she could read anything. She sat down at the piano with me, it was a Tuesday, it was sunny, she wore the swan brooch.  _ He wrote paragraph after paragraph of his cousin’s favorite mortal holidays-  _ Sabrina had a fascination with the Fourth of July. She put blankets on the roof every year and watched fireworks. She liked the red ones the best cause she said they burned the brightest.  _ Pages about his Aunt Hilda’s garden-  _ She had a system and a pattern. You couldn’t mess with it or they wouldn’t turn out right. She had a fondess for the stray dandelions, and would make them into tea.  _ He almost wrote for an hour about Prudence and her makeup-  _ Dark was her preferred. She rarely ever did it with magic, she said there was an art to it. It was always perfect.  _

Sometimes all he manages it fragments. One strung in place next to the other.  _ Prudence preferred the east wind to the west-Aunt Hilda hated Faulty Towers-Sabrina used to chase dragonflys-Aunt Zelda loved hot chocolate.  _

He knows it’s not enough. 

  
  



End file.
